


bring me to quiet rest

by zipadeea



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Character Death, Emotional Manipulation, Gen, Hurt Ben Hargreeves, Hurt Klaus Hargreeves, I'm so sorry, No Happy Ending Fest, Poor Ben, Poor Everyone, Poor Klaus, Reginald Hargreeves' A+ Parenting, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-08
Updated: 2020-10-08
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:34:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26890723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zipadeea/pseuds/zipadeea
Summary: [“He was levitating, Vanya.”“It was--I’ve never seen anything like it. There was blue light everywhere, and Ben just, it’s like time went backward, everything just pieced itself back together--,”“It was like a bomb went off, then Klaus was thirty feet away, and Ben was breathing again and--,”]***Klaus figures out his powers at the most opportune moment.But nothing works out quite the way he expects.
Relationships: Ben Hargreeves & Klaus Hargreeves
Comments: 29
Kudos: 187





	bring me to quiet rest

**Author's Note:**

> yo, i have so many other stories to be working on now, but this came to me and wouldn't go away. mind the tags, this is sad. it's just...yeah, it's sad.

“I can’t--I can’t find a pulse,” Luther says with a wretched groan, tears already streaking his dirty face. “He doesn’t have a pulse.” 

“Then fucking move!” Allison shouts, pushing Luther down to Ben’s chest, “Start compressions, I’ll do breaths. Come on!” 

But Luther doesn’t move, hands frozen to his sides as he stares at Ben’s torso. 

“Luther!” Allison shrieks, trying and failing to push Luther away so she can reach Ben’s chest. 

“A-Allison,” Diego stutters from the other side of Ben, his voice choked. “Allison, stop.” 

“Why? Why are you giving up, what are you...” But Allison trails off, finally staring at the bloody mess of their little brother’s chest. The shattered ribs, the intestines intertwined with dead tentacles. 

The small and silent, very visible heart. 

“Oh God,” Allison rasps, before turning back and retching. “Oh, God, Ben. _Ben_.” Next to her, Luther curls in on himself, hands pulling at his hair as he rocks back and forth. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry, Ben. I’m so sorry.” 

Diego is slumped on Ben’s other side like his strings have been cut. He has one of Ben’s hands in both of his own, held up to his forehead with his head bowed. If he and Klaus hadn’t been raised by the same psychotic monster, Klaus would assume his brother was praying. 

And Klaus. 

Klaus is the only sibling left standing, staring at them all from his position at Ben’s feet. There’s a breeze flowing in from the new crater in the side wall of the Old Navy; the mall, he remembers. They’re at the shopping mall. A man stormed the mall with a machine gun, and Daddy dearest sent them in after him, like the good little heroes they are. 

But one man had been two, then three, and Ben had been sick that day, his stomach hurt, he didn’t want to come but Dad made him come, then another shooter showed up and Luther said we need you, Ben, but not Ben, never Ben, never sweet smart kind loving Ben but The Horror. They needed The Horror. 

They got The Horror. 

And now, Ben is dead. 

Dead in the middle of Old Navy, with shitty mannequins in ten-dollar jeans and cheap flip flops scattered in bloody rainbows around them and Ben is dead. 

Ben is dead. 

Ben is dead and Five is gone and Dad will be so angry and Vanya will scream and cry and wail and leave fluffernutter sandwiches at Ben’s grave because she’s sweet and weird like that and Ben is dead. 

“I heard a rumor you woke up,” Allison begs, whispering into Ben’s ear as she grabs his other hand. “I heard a rumor you woke up, Ben. I heard a rumor you breathed, Ben. I heard a rumor you lived. I heard a rumor—I—I—Benny,” Allison’s voice cracks. Luther finally curls himself out of his ball, and leans sideways to wrap his arms around Allison, encircling her in a hug. 

Klaus should hug Diego, he thinks idly. Diego is still crying. He looks lonely all by himself, holding Ben’s hand to his cheek like it’s precious, like he is precious. 

He was. 

Ben is dead. 

“W-what are we g-going to do?” Diego’s voice is so soft, barely a whisper, but it seems to carry on the wind, through this shitty, generic department store Klaus never wants to enter ever again until the end of times. The shooters are dead. The Horror did their job. The civilians in the mall are safe. 

Ben is dead. 

Luther doesn’t speak, but he lets go of Allison and pulls himself up into a crouch as he shrugs out of his blazer. He pulls it all the way off and uses the black jacket to cover up Ben’s gaping insides. Then, he gently reaches forward, one hand under Ben’s knees, the other under his shoulders and-- 

“Stop.” 

Everyone looks up at Klaus, still standing at Ben’s feet. Three gazes full of confusion and love and grief. 

“Klaus,” Luther says quietly, but he hasn’t moved forward again yet. He’s listening. He’s waiting for once, and Klaus is glad because he needs a minute. 

Because Ben is dead. Ben is dead and Luther is going to pick Ben up, and they’ll all get loaded into the old man’s helicopter and taken home, and Ben will be put on a table and Mom and Pogo will clean him up and stitch him nice and dress him in his good black suit then they’ll stick him in a box and put him in the ground—or—or even worse they’ll stick him in the hellhole, in the fucking mausoleum, and next time he’s bad Dad will lock Klaus in there and Ben will join the ghosts who haunt his dreams his nightmares his life and there will be no escape because 

Ben is dead. 

_Ben_ is dead. 

Ben is _dead._

“No.” Klaus shakes his head, stepping forward and crouching next to Diego. He lifts Luther’s blazer and throws it away, sticks both hands on either side of Ben’s still heart and thinks about the difference between size and impact. 

“No,” he says again. Klaus leans down, looks Ben in his unseeing eyes, and nods. “Ben is not dead.” 

*** 

*** 

*** 

“He was _levitating_ , Vanya.” 

“It was--I’ve never seen anything like it. There was blue light everywhere, and Ben just, it’s like time went backward, everything just pieced itself back together--,” 

“It was like a bomb went off, then Klaus was thirty feet away, and Ben was breathing again and--,” 

“Children,” a crisp voice interrupts. “Go see to Number Six. Number Four needs his rest.” There’s a scurry of feet, the creak of a door. A couple hand squeezes, and one big kiss smacked to his forehead before Klaus is left with the quiet. 

Klaus has never much been one for silence. 

There’s a creak of a chair settling beside his bed, the crinkle of the sheets as they’re pulled up neatly over his arms and chest. 

“I know you’re awake, Number Four.” If Klaus didn’t know him better, he’d say Dad sounded downright please, which was, obviously, entirely impossible because the only things that pleased Dad were hundred-year-old scotch and Luther acting like Dad’s good little hunting dog and absolutely never ever something involving Klaus. Ever. 

Klaus opens his eyes hesitantly, and Jesus, they feel like fucking boulders. But he does it, looks up at Dad’s monocle, at the small, creepy smile growing on Dad’s thin lips. 

Holy shit. 

Holy shit. 

Dad’s....Dad’s happy. With Klaus. With Klaus? Dad’s happy with Klaus because.... 

_Holy shit._

“Ben,” Klaus gasps, reaching blindly for Dad’s wrist. The IV there tugs and he grimaces, but doesn’t let go. “’s Ben--,” 

“Number Six is perfectly healthy,” Dad replies, neatly pulling Klaus’ cold fingers from around his wrist and adjusting the tape to the IV before tucking his hand back under the covers with a fond pat. His smile widens. “You did it, Four. You brought your brother back to life.” 

Holy fucking shit, he _did_. 

“I’ve received the reports from you siblings regarding the mission. Once you’ve had more time to recuperate, I shall return for your debrief. You are excused from training tomorrow. Grace and Pogo will be available if you require any assistance.” Dad pauses for a moment, considering. 

Then, he reaches forward a hesitant hand and pats the top of Klaus’ head three times. 

“I’m very proud of you, Number Four. You’ve finally begun tapping in to your vast potential.” 

Klaus watches, open-mouthed, as Dad about-faces and walks to the clinic’s door, clicking the door closed on his way out. 

*** 

*** 

*** 

Klaus doesn’t join his siblings for classes the next day, or the next, or even the day after that. 

He’s just...he’s so tired. 

Mom and Pogo tell him to rest, tell him to sleep and heal, but every awakening finds him more exhausted than the last. He’s developed a fever, he can barely find the energy to eat. Ever few hours, Klaus watches as the frowns on Grace and Pogo’s faces grow, along with the number of machines to monitor him at his bedside. 

At first, Klaus isn’t too concerned. He’s had the flu before. It sucks, and maybe he’ll puke, maybe he’ll ache, but he’ll probably live. And a few days off training, a few days where his only job is to sleep? That sounds like heaven to Klaus. 

Day four is when the worry hits. 

Because he’s just—he’s not getting better. 

If anything, he’s getting worse. It’s hard to breathe, everything from his hair follicles to his toes fucking aches, his fever won’t go away, and he still barely stays awake. 

It’s when his hands shake too much to hold the spoon for his soup, and Grace has to feed him like a fucking infant that the worry morphs immediately and totally into fear. 

“Mom, what’s--,” Klaus pauses to cough, “what’s wrong with me?” 

Grace smiles warmly, and cups his cheek with her cold, mechanical hand. “Your father’s working on it, dear. You’ll be just fine soon, I promise. Are you cold?” 

Klaus nods, and Grace pulls another blanket out from the closet, tucking it up to his chin before kissing his forehead. “Get some rest, dear.” 

He’s too exhausted to do anything but obey. 

*** 

*** 

*** 

“Well, hey there Benihana, where ya been?” Klaus rasps, smiling up at Ben, who has grabbed one of Klaus’ hand in both his own. 

“I’m sorry I made you sick,” Ben says softly, gently kneading Klaus’ fingers to warm them up. “This never would have happened if I hadn’t--,” 

“It’s not your fault.” Klaus makes his voice as loud as he can, firm like Dad’s when he’s telling them off, or Luther when he’s acting particularly smart-assy. “It’s not. And trust me, being sick is a hundred times better than living in a world where you—if you’re...” 

Ben hands him a tissue, and Klaus grabs it with his shaking free hand to wipe his cheeks. “This is better,” Klaus promises with a rasp. “And I’ll get better. It’s just a little cold, Benny. Trust me, nothing can keep me down. I’m on a rollercoaster that only goes up, brother. I’m soaring, flying, there’s not a star in--,” 

“Maybe Pogo has you on too many drugs,” Ben says wryly, small smile on his lips. 

Klaus beams. 

*** 

*** 

*** 

“Thank you, Klaus.” Ben whispers later on, when he thinks Klaus has fallen back asleep. 

“Love you, Benny.” Klaus murmurs, eyes still closed. He feels the kiss pressed to the top of his head. 

“I love you, too.” 

*** 

*** 

*** 

Ben goes down to the basement with Dad for ‘special training’ the next day. 

Klaus doesn’t know this because anyone told him. 

He discovers it when Ben unleashes The Horror for the first time since he died, and Klaus seizes so long he goes into cardiac arrest. 

*** 

*** 

*** 

“Number Four,” Dad says primly at Klaus’ third waking after the seizure. At least his chest doesn’t feel like it’s cracking open anymore. 

His head is still killing him, though. 

Ha, killing him. He probably shouldn’t joke about that now. 

“Number Four,” Dad repeats sharply, tapping Klaus’ hand. “I have discovered the cause of your ailment. I know what must be done to fix you.” 

Dad tells Klaus his solution. 

Klaus, for the first of many times in his life, tells his father to go fuck himself. 

It would all be much more satisfying if Klaus wasn’t so terrified. 

*** 

*** 

*** 

Klaus wakes to the sound of a haunting violin, and opens his eyes to see Vanya by the window, swaying with the melody, eyes closed as she plays. She’s in her pajamas, and the world is dark outside, but Vanya is unbothered by everything as she practices, ensconced in a protection of her own creation, one she’s trying and succeeding in spreading to Klaus. 

There’s a warmth in his chest that Klaus hasn’t felt in days, a glow in his fingers that seems to grow with each note his sister plays. 

Perhaps this is Vanya’s gift. To bring peace. 

Perhaps she is the most miraculous of them all. 

Vanya continues playing, but opens her eyes, as though sensing Klaus has finally woken up. She meets his gaze as the music flows from the depths of her soul, and the ghosts outside the window, the ones that always mill about the yard, begin to dance. 

Vanya’s crying. 

It takes Klaus awhile to realize he is, too. 

*** 

*** 

*** 

The next day, Diego comes in when Mom stops by to check his vitals. Mom runs a cannula of oxygen in his nose after she titters a bit about his blood oxygen level, and Diego holds his hand. 

“I think you’re really brave,” he says quietly to Klaus. 

“I think if you grew your hair out, you’d look like Antonio Banderas.” Klaus’ voice is barely more than a breathy rasp, but he manages. 

On a normal day, Diego would retaliate by stuffing a pillow in his face. But today is not a normal day, and instead, Diego holds Klaus’ hand to his own cheek, gently with both his hands, clutching his hand tightly like it’s precious, like he’s precious. 

Like he’s Ben. 

Diego sits with Klaus long after he falls asleep. 

*** 

*** 

*** 

Luther walks through the door, followed by Dad, then Allison, and in a vivid moment of clarity Klaus realizes exactly what is about to happen. 

“I will never forgive you if you do this,” Klaus says, voice low, filled with as much venom as he can inject. He meets Allison gaze and she flinches. “Don’t you dare, don’t you fucking dare, Allie--,” 

“Number Four,” Dad snaps, “Watch your tongue. This is what is best and we all--,” 

“He could live!” Klaus screeches, desperate. “You don’t know that it won’t work, he might outlive me, hell, I might come back to life, I could be fucking immortal, who the fuck knows at this point and--,” 

“Ben’s sick,” Luther admits quietly. “Has been since you had your seizure. He collapsed when you went into cardiac arrest.” 

Tears fill Klaus’ eyes as he falls back into the pillows. No. No. No. 

God, can’t he just do one thing right? Just once? Is that too much to fucking ask? 

Dad sits on the end of Klaus’ bed and adjusts his monocle. “As we’ve discussed previously, your attempted resurrection of Number Six has caused an unexpected and highly parasitic relationship between yourself and Number Six’s interdimensional extra-terrestrial growth.” 

“The Horror is sucking away all your powers,” Luther summarizes succinctly. “It’s killing you.” 

“I won’t kill Ben,” Klaus promises, shaking his head wildly, “I won’t, I won’t, you can’t fucking make me. I’d rather die.” 

“Klaus,” Allison whispers finally, imploring, “Klaus, don’t make us lose you both. Please, Klaus. Please.” 

“He--,” Luther clears his throat, eyes shining, “He wants this, Klaus. Ben’s okay with it. He understands.” 

No, he doesn’t. Ben is sixteen, just like Klaus. 

And Klaus is terrified out of his fucking mind. 

“I don’t even know how,” Klaus says desperately, “I don’t know what I’m doing with my powers, how to take them back, I probably can’t, I guess I’m just doomed, so--,” 

“I can help you,” Allison says quietly, and this time Klaus flinches. 

“Allie,” Klaus swallows thickly. “Allie, don’t. You can’t. Allie, no, please, please, think of Ben, think of Ben, with his chest ripped open and how you--,” 

“Number Three,” Dad orders, and Klaus starts sobbing. 

“No, no, nonononono, please, Ben, Ben, no—no, let me say goodbye, at least let me say--,” 

“I-I heard a rumor,” Allison’s voice wavers, but the world still goes hazy white. “That you let Ben go.” 

*** 

*** 

*** 

_I heard a rumor you forgot how Ben died._

*** 

*** 

*** 

Klaus wakes up. 

And the world ends all over again. 

**Author's Note:**

> I do like allison and luther, but i think they'd be the most easily manipulated into following dad's instructions if he framed it as the best outcome for all. Also, in the story, ben doesn't get a goodbye with klaus because he doesn't want one. he knows klaus would talk him out of it. 
> 
> Anyway, this is my reasoning on why everything around ben's death is vague, and ben sticks around as a ghost. he just loves klaus a lot and feels indebted to the brother who was ready to give up everything for him.


End file.
